


Love Letters

by watercolouredreams



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Ben is a good old-fashioned lover boy, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Men Crying, Movie Night, Sweet, hardzello what else, no toxic masculinity, romantic, sap, they are together in any universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22976266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watercolouredreams/pseuds/watercolouredreams
Summary: When Joe first saw the blue envelope with no name and address on it inside their mailbox, clearly looking (and smelling) like a love letter sent by a secret admirer, he immediately thought that it's for his housemate, Ben. After all, he's the good-looking, young and hot British guy and he's just a plain old thing, with clearly no admirer or anyone paying any interest whatsoever. But little did he know...OR otherwise can be summed up as,Ben is the idiot who sends unnamed love letters to his (also another idiot) housemate.
Relationships: Ben Hardy & Joe Mazzello, Ben Hardy/Joe Mazzello
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	Love Letters

_**Don't tell me you don't feel what I feel, it's written all over you** _

The first time it happened, Ben looked a little pale when Joe handed him the powder blue envelope with no name and address on it. Since Mark moved out last month, it’s only been the two of them, so he figured out that the letter must be for Ben, his good-looking, blonde, green-eyed English housemate with a hot bod, who wakes up at 6am to run at the park everyday to keep fit and then comes home with bagels stuffed with cream cheese. There’s a faint whiff of fragrance from the paper as well, and he wondered who sends old-fashioned love letter nowadays anyway? “I hope it’s not a prank, mate,” and then again wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said that, since Ben visibly tensed up and disappeared into his room with the envelope without a word.

The second time he found the nameless envelope in their mailbox was exactly a week ago, a few days after the first one. It was getting a little suspicious, if not worrying. “How did you send them a reply?” he asked a stricken-looking Ben later that day. “Did they write instructions to leave the reply at a specific post box or wait, maybe like, at an inconspicuous place, or like, tape it to the fire hydrant or something?” He looked at Ben, frowning. “Do you even know who this person is, or is the whole mystery identity exciting? Is this some kind of a new dating app procedure?” Ben proceeded to slam the door in front of Joe’s face after he said that, but he has to say, the whole thing was rather hilarious.

By the time the third faintly-fragranced powder blue envelope arrived, Joe thought he should apologize to Ben for making fun of his mysterious letter-sender, regardless of whether they are real and their identity a secret, or not. “I thought it’s sweet that people still want to write and send old-fashioned love letters in this age and century,” he said as he handed him the blue envelope. “I mean, I didn’t think that it’s creepy at all. And I’m not judging you either. Whatever makes you happy, right?” But again, Ben wordlessly disappeared into his room with the envelope and he hoped he didn’t upset the blonde in any way. By the way, he did think it’s a little creepy, though, just saying.

The fourth envelope appeared in their mailbox yesterday. Joe was beginning to think that maybe Ben is as creepy as the letter sender, and they really are exchanging love letters, (which is fine by him because hey, they are probably a good match then. Creepy and creeper) or there’s something more sinister going on here. “Are you being threatened or blackmailed by any chance?” he asked rather seriously, “because you shouldn’t keep these things to yourself, you know.” Ben shook his head quickly, frowning, “No, of course not!” he answered, a little incredulous. Joe nodded and chugged his beer. “Are you a spy, then?” Ben groaned into his hand. “Okay don’t answer me maybe. Because then you might have to kill me, and I don’t want to die--”

“No, I’m not a spy, Joe.” Ben answered, sighing heavily. “And you’re right. This whole letter thing is getting ridiculous,” he trailed off as he got up to go to the kitchen sink. He rinsed his beer bottle and put it into the box that Joe labeled for recycling. “Are we still up for movie night?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the topic. “You bet we are.” Joe grinned, glad that Ben wasn’t upset with him. “It’s your kind of movie too, you’re gonna love it.” 

And he was right. As usual they get settled comfortably on the couch and switched off all the lights and left the reading light in the living room dimmed. Ben cried nearly at the end of the movie, at the part where Joe thought he would, and he silently handed him the box of tissue papers he had kept handy on the couch. He cried again when the movie ended, slumping slightly against Joe’s side. Joe wound his arm around Ben’s shoulder, rubbing his arm a little. “That was a good movie.” He said into Joe’s sweater. “And I hate you,” he added after, which made Joe laugh. “Admit it, I choose the best movies.” Ben looked up at him, smiling, still a little teary-eyed, and something in Joe's chest gave way a little. It’s not the first time that the blonde’s smile made his heart skip a beat, but he has grown to get used to it by now. So his housemate is not just nice and sweet and kind-hearted, but he's _very attractive_ too, okay? And he’s pretty sure by now that Ben’s smile can even melt rocks, let alone his poor, poor heart.

“Yes, you do,” Ben agreed, looking at the TV screen again. “Let’s watch something mindless and distracting for a while?” he said, not moving from where he’s comfortably leaning against Joe, even as Joe moved sideways in the opposite direction to grab the remote control. They just shifted here and there to get comfortable. “Something mindless coming right up,” Joe said as he pressed the button on the remote. They both agreed to settle on watching a talk show rerun, which Joe actually found rather engaging. Or distracting, or both. He didn’t realize that he’s absent-mindedly scratching his nails against the sleeve of Ben’s sweater in a short and steady up and down movement. He stopped when Ben spoke.

“About the letter thing,” he paused, as if thinking. It gave Joe some time to refocus his thoughts as well. Ben was so quiet for the last ten minutes that he honestly thought he had dozed off. “You think they should have just come out and say how they feel, yeah?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It’s just a little worrying, is all. Do you know them? How are you sure they aren’t criminals or posers or psychos or an eighty year old man posing as a girl?” Ben laughed, hard, shaking both of them in the process. “I’m dead serious, Jones. These days, you never know.”

“You’re paranoid, Mazzello. That’s what you are.”

“I’m cautious.”

Ben scoffed. “Don’t you think it’s a little romantic, getting hand-written love letters?”

“Maybe, if I know who I am getting them from.”

“They’d sign their names at the end usually, wouldn’t they?”

“But how do you know they’re really who they say they are?”

Ben laughed again. “You’re impossible.”

Joe widened his eyes. “I’m just being your little voice of reason here, okay. Watching your back.”

“Okay, okay, you’re the best, and all that,” there were remnants of laughter in his voice.

“Yes, of course I am, thank you.” Joe said flippantly and Ben can’t seem to stop laughing.

They fell silent for a while after that, eyes on the TV. Joe didn’t think he could get his mind to focus on the talk show anymore.

“What if they’re shy and didn’t want to say things face to face?”

“Why? Are they phony?”

“No,” Ben protested, sitting up a little so he could look at Joe. “Just, shy.” He turned a little so he could look at Ben too, not liking the fact that his warmer side was suddenly getting cold. 

“Pfft.” Joe rolled his eyes. “I say, phony. If you like a person, tell them how you feel about them. Or at least write a goddamn name and address on the envelope, even if you’re too much of a cheapskate to pay for stamp and properly mail it.”

“Wow, I think you've just hurt their feelings a little,” Ben said with a little smile on his face. “I just think it’s kind of romantic.”

“Also, let me guess,” Joe said, sitting up so he could look closer at Ben with a very amused look on his face. “It sounds exactly like something you might do yourself.”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

Joe shook his head. “ _You’re_ impossible.” He said, chuckling. “I mean, how hard it is to tell someone you like them that you have to _write a letter_ , of all things?”

“First,” Ben said, pausing for effect, “Liking someone is very different than loving someone. Second,” he paused again, and was it just him or did he just see Ben visibly swallow and hesitate?

“If you love someone that much you’d have a long list of things to tell them, wouldn’t you? Like, for example, how much you love the way they make you laugh and care for you even when they say annoying things sometime, and how they’re the nicest and kindest and sweetest person you know, and how much you love their eyes and their smile and how they make you feel at ease but also make your heart skip a beat?”

For a moment, Joe felt very confused. Was he listening to his own inner thoughts speaking over Ben’s voice, or did Ben really said all these, because--

“Also you love the fact that you get to see them every day when you come home and have these movie nights when they pick a good movie that they know will make you cry so they have tissues and their arm ready for you when you do?”

\--he didn’t see this coming. At all.

“If you’d open one of those blue envelopes and read the letter you’d see that it starts with your name and ends with my name signed at the end. And you’d know for how long I’ve thought about kissing you everytime we’re sitting together so close, just like this.”

If Ben hadn’t pointed it out, Joe wouldn’t even realize how close they were with each other right now, not slumped against each other’s side but sitting up and leaning towards each other as if they were going to--

“ _Oh_ ,” he heard himself making that small, surprised sound and he thought he sounded so _dumb_. And to his horror, he can’t seem to stop his mouth from muttering, “are we going to--”

“--kiss?” Ben continued, finishing his sentence for him. “Can I? Kiss you?” And Ben was just--he was just-- _so close_ that they were just practically whispering with barely any sound to each other.

It’s hard to say what was going on in his mind at that moment because it felt like five thousand different thoughts were running on five thousand high speed trains and he couldn’t hear or see anything past them but at the same time he could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, loud and clear and timed like the beginning of a song he couldn’t recall. He didn’t realize how hard he's clenching his hand in a tight fist, until his short and neatly trimmed nails were digging into his palm and it actually _hurt_.

But that made him say _yes_.

It’s also hard to tell who closed the gap between them and went in for the kiss. Maybe Ben did. Maybe he did. Or they both did, because whatever coyness or hesitation they were playing at with each other disappeared within the first few seconds of the kiss and the next thing he knew, they have hands on necks and side of their faces and in their hair and he was pulling Ben close and they were kissing with tongues and making noises that he never thought they would make, not with each other, at least.

And it has never felt so good, kissing another person like this. _Never felt so right_.

“So there was never a psycho or creepy eighty year-old?”

“No, just me,” Ben said, his face flushed, either from their kiss or from embarrassment or both.

Under normal circumstances, Joe would have laughed and made fun of Ben, eight years younger than him but is really just eighteen years old, but he couldn’t stop looking at how Ben was staring at his lips while biting his own, and all five thousand thoughts in his head was all telling him the same thing--

\-- _kiss him again now, you idiot_. And he has never agreed with himself more fervently before.

“Good,” he said curtly, leaning close to Ben for another kiss, and this time he pulled him by the front of his sweater so that they’re lying down on the couch, Joe on his back and Ben on top of him, not once breaking away from the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a palate cleanser based on a prompt on Tumblr and I was in a sappy and jovial mood the entire time of writing this, can you tell? Overall, it was a happy little thing, and combined with all the Joe content we're getting these past couple of days, I am a content (pun intended!) fangirl. I hope we're getting more and more content on regular basis now! ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
